Flannan rides forward, takes the wool Onchú’s offering and brings it back. Hands half to me.

“What about you?” Blackthorn’s looking at the lady, brows up. “And your men?” None of them’re blocking their ears. Though they’re not looking keen to ride on either. Ripple’s got her tail between her legs.

“The passage of time has enabled me to develop some resistance.” Lady Geiléis is a nasty shade of white. Looks worn-out all of a sudden. “The wailing still has its effect,” she says, “but I have learned to withstand the worst of it, as have the members of my household. It would be impractical to go about with one’s ears blocked all day, every day. But you are new to this. You are here to help me, Mistress Blackthorn, and you will not be able to do so if you fall victim to the spell.”

“If I did fall victim,” says Blackthorn, “what would happen?”

“The sound would not only hurt your ears and give you a severe headache, it would also fill your mind with unwelcome thoughts. Recollections of past failures. Memories of sorrow and loss. If you traveled unguarded, you would soon find yourself swept away in a tide of self-reproach. The curse would leave nothing of you. Only a hollow shell in which regrets rattled about like dry seeds in a gourd.”

Makes me wonder why Prince Oran hadn’t even heard of this lady before she turned up at court. Nobody knew about her or the monster or any of it. Such a strange tale, you’d think everyone in Dalriada would be telling it. And the lady did say it had been going on for a while. Long enough for word to get out, I’d have thought. But what would I know?

“This has actually happened to folk?” says Blackthorn. “The sound has turned them witless? Are the effects permanent?”

“The effects are long-lasting,” Lady Geiléis tells her. “Believe me, you and your friends should block your ears.”

Blackthorn turns a look on her. “If you want me to solve your mystery,” she says, polite as if she was asking Geiléis to pass the salt, “you must allow me to make my own choices. I will carry the wool. That’s only common sense. If I think I need to use it, I will. Grim can make his own decision. We will remain with the escort; I give you my word.” She looks across at Flannan. “You should stop your ears from the start, Flannan.” She speaks softer when she’s talking to him. “Nobody’s asked you to investigate the monster; no reason to put yourself at risk. But I must be able to hear. Time is short for this quest. I should listen and learn.”

Lady Geiléis is not having this. Doesn’t like anyone else trying to take charge, that’s plain. “But, Mistress Blackthorn—”

“Past failures, you mentioned. Memories of sorrow and loss. Grim and I are accustomed to those. They walk with us day and night.” Blackthorn glances over at me again, not quite smiling. “Besides, I’ve been hearing your monster’s voice clearly for some time now. It started while we were halted by the lake. You?” It’s me she’s asking.